WithLove from Hell
by HalloweenPanda
Summary: Friday 31 August 1888. The first body is found. Isshin is head investigator of the case of Jack the Ripper. But while he scours the city for this madman, old Saucy Jack is stalking him as well with words of warped love. Only Ryuuken can comfort the lonesome officer and protect him from falling apart from the horror and pressure of the case. Not historically accurite. Noir.


It all started with the body.

It was the mark of the final day of the summer months; the remaining heat of summer long drifting away, when at 3:45 a.m., a pleasant Friday it was to be, that they found Mary Ann Nichols.

And what a sight she was, sprawled out on Buck's Row with her neck sliced open. The lower part of her abdomen had also been partially sliced open, exposing the coagulated pulp of what would be the intestines.

The police arrived on the scene shortly after. From what they could find, her throat had received two severely deep cuts as well as her abdomen. From her background she was a prostitute, which was more than likely in Whitechapel. An area thriving with poverty, prostitution, violence, and any other sort of slime that claimed to be part of the human race.

Indeed it was a barbaric act, but not uncommon in the area. Just another nameless soul that had reached a bitter end in the world.

Isshin Kurosaki, a half-blood immigrant police officer, surveyed the crime scene with a grim face. After years on the force, he was used to seeing these sorts of crimes. But something here made his blood run cold.

"Nasty business, eh Isshin?" a fellow officer spoke, staring at the mutilated woman. "But nothing is exactly pretty here in Whitechapel."

Isshin couldn't agree more. But his attention was focused on the woman's neck. Kneeling next to the stiff body, he examined the throat. It was so clean...

"Get this body over and examined." he ordered, "I want a full report."

They went about their duties, making house-to-house inquiries, searching for possible witnesses. They also needed to collect any evidence material to examine in hopes for some clues.

Isshin let out a long sigh, rubbing his shoulder. It had been a long day with no results. It was like he suspected. The causes of death were the cuts to the victim's throat, done with a very sharpened blade. The same knife was used on the body as well.

Removing his hat, and smoothing a hand over his spiked hair, the man gazed up at the already darkening sky. A murder done on the final day of August. Fall was already starting to set in and with it a chilled breeze swept pass him.

It felt ominous.

Shaking these feelings off, he tried to look on the brighter side. He was told a couple of men from Scotland yard would be coming down to assist them as well. This thrilled him, since his son was training with them.

A lonesome expression passed over his face. He had three children, his son and two daughters.

His wife had died while protecting their son from a violent assailant.

He was a disgusting monster that had an eye for children; tried to steal his son. But Misaki, his protecting wife, fought and died saving him. The man was later convicted and hung.

But the damage was done. He lost his wife and nearly lost his son. Afterward, he left the Scotland Yard force and raised them on his own, doing a small medical practice he learned as a soldier.

His son, Ichigo, had become an officer as a means to protect those from losing the ones they love. He was hot tempered and a grand fighter, but a good heart through and through.

When his children, Karin and Yuzu became of age, they had decided to attend boarding school in Switzerland, thus leaving the man alone.

He stifled back a sniffle. He missed them terribly, but knew it was for the best.

If it wasn't for his old and dear friends, Ryuuken Ishida, and Urahara Kisuke, he would have long since chased after his son when returning to the force. But the crime rate here was a deeper concern, so he selected to watch over the Whitechapel area.

Urahara worked in Scotland Yard but always came down to visit him. And Ryuuken was a well-known doctor that ran many facilities all across Europe. He was currently residing in Whitechapel to aid those in need of medical treatment but held little money to get it.

Speaking of which, checking his pocket watch, Isshin saw that is was nearly time to meet up with him at their favorite pub.

Letting out a happy exhale, he looked forward to a nice strong drink after seeing a body like that.

The sun had set and many of the nightly residents of Whitechapel had come out. Prostitutes flaunting their bodies and offering a smile, or late night peddlers in hopes of getting a couple coins.

Isshin was no stranger to these nightly sights. Life in the army and years on the force helped him develop a thick skin to the insanity that would consume the weaker willed.

Passing down the usual streets, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Stopping, he looked about his surroundings.

Just the usual people out and about, returning home for a good meal, or going out to the pub to drink away their sorrows. But something didn't feel right. It was like a pair of eyes were burrowing into his very soul.

Scanning the crowd, he caught sight of something. Something he most likely would have missed.

Off in the distance, standing just a few inches away from the gleaming light of a lamp post, a figure stood. They were entirely dressed in black and wore a top hat. It was hard to make out the visage from that distance, but just as it was there, it was gone.

Isshin scratched his head. Was that person watching him?

* * *

The pub was noisy like always, especially so for a weekend.

Already there were men red nosed and carrying on in loud boisterous bouts, barmaids slapping at hands that touched where they should not, and even a small argument at the bar.

Isshin overlooked all this and looked at the barkeep. They made eye contact and the barman nodded his head up the stairs. The aged police officer shook his head cheerfully and took an ale bottle that was set out as he passed the counter.

Room 841.

Without even knocking, Isshin entered. "Ryuuken, you in?"

"If I wasn't, then you wouldn't even be up here." a stern icy voice replied.

Ryuuken sat in his usual comfy chair, a warm cup of tea in one hand, and a newspaper in the other.

"Still as stuffy as always." Isshin chuckled, removing his hat and popping the cork to his ale.

Ryuuken glanced up from the mass of words and gave the officer an unemotional stare. "You could have at least cleaned up before coming here." he sighed, gazing at the other's wrinkled and ash ridden clothes critically.

But Isshin only smiled like he always did and sat down on the chair across from his friend.

The room they were in was always reserved just of Ryuuken, claiming he detested the noise and smell of the creatures below. Why he didn't just drink at home was anyone's guess.

Taking a long swallow of ale, Isshin let out a satisfied sigh. "That hits the spot." Using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, he saw as the snow haired physician finished the rest of the tea in his cup and poured himself another. It always amused Isshin to watch the silent and often cold man drop cube after cube of sugar into his cup along with a good helping of cream.

"You look rather haggard." Ryuuken observed, taking a sip of his tea, testing the flavor before adding one more cube of sugar.

"Anyone would, after the day I had." Isshin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ryuuken placed his cup down, folding his newspaper. "Care to explain?"

Isshin long since knew he could tell his old friend almost anything without worry that he would speak of it to anyone. "There was a murder today, a very brutal one."

The snow haired man remained impassive, waiting for the other to continue.

"She died of two deep cuts to the throat and then her abdomen was partially cut open."

"Indeed? How gruesome. Maybe she didn't please her customer and thus got the brunt end of his fury."

But Isshin shook his head. "No, the cuts to her neck were clean. Only a hand that's skilled with a knife would do that damage."

Ryuuken poured himself some fresh tea. "From what you're telling me, it sounds like the job was left half done.

Isshin raised his head in question.

"You said the woman was killed by a steady knife to her throat and then her abdomen partially cut?"

"Yes..."

"Well, to me it sounds as if the killer lost his nerve at the last minute and turned tail, or he or she was interrupted."

It finally dawned on the man that what his friend said was possibly true.

Leaning back in his chair, he gave his friend a tired smile. "You never cease to amaze me with your intuition. It makes me wonder why you never went into the police force."

"I wouldn't get paid enough."

For the first time that day, Isshin laughed, long and hard. Finally catching his breath, he once again rubbed his stiff shoulder.

"Stiff again?" the physician asked, ever sharp eyed and knowledgeable.

Isshin smiled sheepishly. "Yeah... Been up before dawn trying to gather information. Guess I didn't get much sleep."

"On the bed." he sighed, getting up from his comfy chair.

Long ago he had a bed moved up there for cases when he was too tired to return to his own home.

Removing his jacket, Isshin lay face down on the bed. Letting out a soft moan, he melted under Ryuuken's skilled fingers that dissolved away the aches and tension in his back.

"That feels so good..." he exhaled in a sleepy voice.

Ryuuken let out a huff, rubbing the taut muscles beneath his fingers. "I'm a doctor, remember?" he bit back. But he continued to knead the man's back till he could feel him beginning to nod off.

"I hope you're right about the killer losing his nerve..." Isshin mumbled, letting out a yawn. "Then no one else will get hurt. But I'll hunt down this killer. I'll search all of England to find him..." His breathing softened and he began to fall asleep.

"You're so faithful." Ryuuken said to him in a sarcastic tone, but he was already asleep.

Picking up his coat and hat, Ryuuken pulled a quilt over the slumbering large man and dimmed the lights. Giving one last glance toward his friend, the doctor left the pub.

* * *

6 a.m. September 8th. A charming Saturday it would have been... until they found her.

She was found near the doorway in the back quarters of 29 Hanbury Street, nestled in Spitafields. A miss Ann Chapman. Much like the lady before, her throat received two deep clean cuts, but this time her abdomen was cut completely open.

Isshin stared at the grisly scene. Rubbing a hand over his tired face, he watched as they loaded the body up to be delivered to the coroner.

But he knew something was up. The victim was sliced wide open and there was excessive amounts of blood around the opening and ground. In his days as a former physician, he knew that there was a purpose to cutting her up.

"Something catching your eye?" Urahara asked, eying the mutilated corpse. He usually worked up in Scotland Yard, but was called down here to help. Isshin was happy to have an ally he knew.

"I'm not sure..." Isshin answered honestly. "I hope I'm not thinking the worst..."

Urahara looked away from the body, shaking his head. "I think in this case, the worst is only the beginning..."

Taking a trip to the coroner, his hunch would soon be concluded.

Standing out the closed door, dirtied with age, grim, and heaven knew what else, the pungent smell had already assaulted their noses when they got within one block of the place.

Without hesitation, Isshin opened the door and went inside. The overwhelming stench blasted right into their faces, causing Urahara to gag and the trailing officer to dry heave. Isshin merely winced.

The acidic stench of rotting and decomposing mingled with stomach churning aroma of chemicals and alcohol for disinfection filled the air around them.

In one area the coroner was just wiping his hands on his blood soaked apron. "Ah, gentleman. Do come in." he grinned. An eccentric man with yellowed teeth, and a bizarre face, he was indeed an odd one. He was a leading curator who relished in his line of work. Fascinated by each blemish to the body. The more gruesome the death, the more delighted he was.

"As you can see, I have just finished with the victim. Defiantly the same person. No doubt. Cuts from left to right and very clean cuts at that. And deep." He actually smiled at them, those wide gold eyes glinting with joy.

"So it's the same lunatic as before." Urahara sighed, looking rather bored, and green from the fumes in the room. The doctor shot Urahara a vicious glare. The history between them was a mystery, and one Isshin had no desire to know of.

The doctor held up his hands in a shrug. "As with the first, death was caused by the severing of the throat. But unlike the last one..." here he smiled, "he took a trophy..."

All three of the officers became alert. "What do you mean?" Isshin asked, his face hard.

Ecstatic at catching their curiosity, the eccentric man walked leisurely over to a table. An outline of a body lay beneath a white sheet stained with blood.

Picking up the bottom of the sheet, and an eerie grin, the doctor pulled it up.

The officer behind Isshin and Urahara choked then dashed from the room. Outside they could hear the retching of his voice as he obviously emptied his bowels.

If Urahara wasn't green then, then he was now, holding back the bile that churned in his stomach. Isshin merely winced again, already use to these sights as his days as a doctor.

The coroner grinned his gold like teeth and rolled those crazy glazed eyes toward them. "This specimen is missing it's uterus."

Both Isshin and Urahara's eyes widen in shock.

"Could this have been done by a surgeon?" Isshin asked, taking a notebook out to take notes. The doctor gave a lazy frown, shaking his head as if speaking to a monkey. "I highly doubt a man with education of a surgeon would be a lowly killer of prostitutic vermin. Really, the idiotic things you officers think of."

Urahara arched a brow. "But you never know..."

"Then I suggest you take into account that this buffoon has less scientific knowledge, anatomical knowledge or even technical knowledge than a lowly butcher." the doctor snapped. "Even a horse slaughterer has more skill than this shoddy dice up job of an autopsy!"

Urahara put his hands up in defense. "Easy there. No need to steam up like a kettle."

"Now you are insinuating that I am as brainless as a kettle!?" the doctor screeched.

Isshin and Urahara made a hasty retreat before they were next on the autopsy table.

Urahara sighed, stretching his arms over his head. "Well I suppose it's time we started our inquiries."

"Yeah." Isshin sighed as well.

Endless hours of questioning and interrogating led only to one possible witness saying at 5:30 a.m. they saw the victim with a dark-haired man of, as they said, 'shabby-genteel' appearance. This did little to help.

The sun was already crawling off to into the far off horizon as Isshin and Urahara walked the darkening cobblestone streets of Whitechapel. "A dark-haired man with a shabby-genteel look." Urahara mused, scratching his chin. He then looked at his colleague. "Kind of sounds like you." he teased.

"Don't joke like that." Isshin growled, "People may take it seriously."

"Yeah, yeah. Bollocks, this case sure has you on edge."

Isshin gave the other a sour look. "Of course. Just about a week goes by and the same guy bobs off another wench. How am I supposed to act?"

But the blond only shrugged. "Relax, friend." he smiled, laying a comforting hand on Isshin's shoulder. "We'll catch this lunatic."

The scruffy man smiled in return, touched by the other's concern. "You're right. I think I'll get a pint. Care to join me?"

Urahara declined, saying he had a previous engagement. But Isshin knew that meant a certain lady friend that went by the name, The Cat. She worked in undercover, for Scotland Yard.

Bidding him goodnight, Isshin tosses a coin in the air and catches it. Time to toddle off to his favorite pub.

The street lamps were just being lit, but their light cast an eerie low glow. Whistling an old tune, Isshin took a short cut he always used. As usual the women of the night were out and about, offering themselves for a few coins.

Isshin shook his head solemnly. It was sad what people become. He read up about the victims. About their lives before. Just like his, it can be thrown into hell. Like his wife. His beautiful Misaki. How he ached inside whenever he thought of her. But he knew that she died the way she wanted.

Protecting her child.

Returning from the fog of old memories, the man found himself alone in an alley he turned. He swore quietly; he really needed to pay attention to his surroundings.

Speaking of which, he suddenly noticed the soft footsteps on the cobblestone road behind him. He hoped it was just someone out for a stroll, but the officer in his was always on alert in case there was trouble.

Slowing the pace, Isshin waited to see if he would pass by, but the steps slowed and continued to echo his. So Isshin picked up the pace, and so did the person behind him.

Now Isshin knew this person was after him. He really held no desire to be robbed tonight. Slowing his pace again he strolled along casually and waited to pass under a lamp post. There he took out his pocket watch and opened it to check the time. But instead he used the cover, which held a small mirror, and used it to reflect the image of the one behind him.

He was dressed in a thick black coat that had seen better days, and a rather worn top hat that was pulled down to cover his face. The same person who was watching him from before.

Calmly closing the watch, Isshin placed it in his pocket and continued on. Just passing a small alley, he was just about to pass it by when he suddenly dives into it and broke into a run.

The cloaked figure didn't seem fazed and quickly took chase.

Isshin weaved past abandoned crates, knocking over a broken barrel or two just to slow his pursuer down. But the damn man was like a cat, leaping over the obstacles and wreckage. It was like he was some shadow floating off the ground.

Cursing, Isshin decided eluding was impossible, so he'd have to confront him.

Taking a sharp corner, he took his pistol out and spun around. Leaping out, he raises his weapon ready to fire. "Halt!" he barked. But the alley was empty.

Isshin stared in shock, the man was nowhere to be seen. But that was impossible. He either had to pass by his way, or turn back. And he would have at least seen his fleeting form. Maybe he really was just a shadow and returned to the darkness?

Shaking his head at such an absurd thought, he tucks away his gun and turns to leave.

Black spectacles peered into his.

A flash of silver strikes out and slices across his throat.

Isshin grabs his throat but feels no blood flow. Only the tattered remains of his tie and collar. Stunned, he staggers back.

The assailant advances and and shoves Isshin face first against the cold grime coated wall, the sharp pricks of brick clawing into his skin. Pinning his wrists behind his back, he presses the glistening blade against the struggling officer's throat. Immediately he stops moving.

Isshin's heart pounded in his chest. Was this how he was going to die? Without saying goodbye to his children? The thought filled his with adrenaline and quickly tried to figure out a way to escape.

But his captor paid no heed to his plans. No, he was far too distracted to care.

Isshin could feel the cloaked man's heavy breath shorten and tremble. In fact his whole body was trembling. Suddenly he felt the wretch brush his nose to the back of his head and inhale his perspiring scalp deeply. Isshin froze. The smacking of lips made his skin prickle.

The man breathed deeply, openly panting and rocked his body into his victim. Gazing at the shell of his ear, he couldn't help but lick it, lightly biting down.

Letting out a gasp, Isshin's eyes widened. This man... he couldn't be...

His answer was an easy one when the blade skimmed down his chest, cutting his shirt and coat open. There gloved fingers traced over his plump pectoral muscles. He released low groans, continuing to rock into Isshin's backside. His hand that held his wrists released them and reached around to cup his privates.

"AH!" Unable to keep silent, Isshin pushed against the wall with all his strength and rammed right into his attacker. The man stumbled back, but light footedly skipped in retreat to avoid a swing of Isshin's fist.

Reaching for his pistol, Isshin was stunned to find it missing.

A low chuckle made him look up to see the black cloaked man dangling the pistol from one finger. Casting it aside, he draws out his blade when the officer advanced. Wagging a finger, he skipped slowly away into the dark and out of sight. But as he did so, Isshin heard a low voice speak to him. "I'll see you again... Officer. " he spoke from the dark, "When more maidens of filth are drowned in crimson beauty..."

Then all was silent.

It took Isshin a couple of minutes to register what had happened, his legs shaking, but remained standing. Clutching his torn clothing, he leaves the alley way.

In a daze he wandered down the empty streets, flinching at every noise. The whole ordeal seemed like a bad dream. But his torn clothing and scraped skin told otherwise.

It was then he found himself before a door. A door to the home of his friend, Ryuuken. He didn't know why he came here, but...

Raising a trembling fist, he softly knocked on the door. He had expected no answer, since it was already so late, but, to his delight, the door opened.

"Isshin?" The snow haired man stared at the other in wonder. He was hunched over, clasping the front of his coat. His slacks and shoes were filthy and his face held small scrapes. He looked at him with blank eyes before slumping into him.

"I-Isshin!? What's wrong? What happened?" Ryuuken was at a loss.

"May I... come in?" Isshin whispered in a soft voice.

Looking at his large form slumped all over him, he sighed and said yes.

Moments later, Isshin sat on the plush couch, holding a glass of strong brandy. The glass shook in his trembling fingers. Ryuuken had patched him up, but could do nothing for his clothing, other than loaning him a spare robe. Sitting across from him, Ryuuken poured himself a glass.

"Care to explain what happened?" he asked calmly.

Isshin flinched. How could he tell his friend he was attacked and then molested. Staring into the glass, he couldn't bring his eyes to look into the other pair watching him closely.

The clock on the mantel ticked softly, but neither said a word.

Swirling the brandy in his glass, Ryuuken took a long swallow. "I assume that you were attacked, judging from your clothing and scrapes. Get a scare?"

This made Isshin fume. "NO!" he retorted stubbornly.

Ryuuken just shook his head. "Calm down. Even the most seasoned of officer's can turn cold feet."

"I didn't get cold feet." the man huffed, and chugged back his drink.

"Isshin..."

"What?" he snapped.

"... I'm glad you're all right." the physician muttered and took another sip.

Those simple words touched Isshin's heart and felt all the anxiousness and fears melt away. Unable to hide his feeling, he quickly ducked his head to smile sheepishly.

The small clock chimed indicating it was an hour till midnight.

Placing his glass down, Ryuuken doused the lights and placed the brandy away. "Please use the spare room." he instructed.

"That won't be necessary." Isshin declined, "I'll just head off to home-"

"Where no one is waiting?" he cut in.

Isshin became saddened and lowered his gaze.

Walking past the man, Ryuuken places a hand on his shoulder. "Stay... At least you know there's someone here."

This made Isshin smile. "Thank you." he said gratefully.

Bidding him a goodnight, Ryuuken climbed the stairs.

Closing the door to his room, he fell upon the bed, his eyes in a daze. Closing them, he exhaled."Isshin..." he whispered in the dark.

* * *

After the second murder, newspaper filled their headlines with terror. A mad killer on the prowl in the streets of Whitechapel. They dubbed the unknown assailant with various names like, 'The Whitechapel murderer', or, 'Leather Apron', since the killings resembled the work of butchers.

No new evidence came up, and the police, and Scotland Yard, were left utterly stumped.

A couple weeks passed with little to no serious crimes. Thus the media also calmed down a bit. Until the mail came.

Now it wasn't unusual for people to post possible sightings, helpful hints, or new suspects, but these really resulted to nothing.

At the Central News Agency, a particular letter was received on the 27th of September. The contents raised a few brows and was thus forwarded to Scotland Yard a couple days later.

Isshin was called in.

Urahara was waiting for him there.

"What happened?" he asked, his brow creased in concern.

Grim faced, Urahara handed him a letter.

Taking the note Isshin examined it.

It was written in red ink, covering both sides of the paper and was followed by a post-script written in red pencil. Dated 25th September.

Turning it over in his hands, he read the red words and became chilled.

_Dear Boss,_

I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they wont fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits.

_I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. I saved some of the proper red stuff in a ginger beer bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick like glue and I cant use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope ha. ha. The next job I do I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to the police officers just for jolly wouldn't you. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work, then give it out straight. My knife's so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance. Good Luck.  
Yours truly_

Jack the Ripper

Dont mind me giving the trade name

_PS Wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands curse it No luck yet. They say I'm a doctor now. ha ha_

Handing back the letter, Urahara watched the man's reaction. "What do you make of it?"

Shaking his head, he gave the other a pleading look. "Is this legitimate?"

"I hope not." Urahara sighed, rubbing his chin. "I hope this is just a hoax."

"But what can we do?"

"What can we do?" he countered, giving a leveled look. "All we can do is wait..."

They needn't wait long.

* * *

September 30th. In the dark wee hours, around 1:00 a.m., a soon to be pleasant Sunday, the body of a woman was found. Elizabeth Stride was discovered in Dutfield's Yard, just off Berner Street. Her face turned toward the wall, her throat lay exposed with a deep gash severed across it. Clutched in her left hand was a packet of cachous.

It was a single cut, like before, but unlike the previous two, she wasn't mutilated. Other than the cut to the throat, which severed the left main artery, there were no other incisions.

Through all their confusion and befuddlement, three quarters to an hour later, more discoveries were in store.

In Mitre Square, the city of London, a Miss Catherine Eddowes was discovered. Like Miss Stride, her throat was severed nearly clean off. But unlike the other, she was a real mess.

Her clothes soaked in red, and the ground beneath her caked in a thick layer of blood; a long jagged cut ran down her abdomen. It was openly gaping and looked as if she were turned inside out.

Many of the officers choked back the bile that burned their throats. The strong scent of decomposition was suffocating.

Isshin stared at the mutilation. In his mind he could hear the words of that cloaked figure. 'I'll see you again... Officer. When more maidens of filth are drowned in crimson beauty...'

Clenching his jaw, he slams his fist against the wall. Was that bastard was the one doing this?

Urahara came racing up at that minute. "Isshin. Something's been discovered."

Hurrying over to the scene in Whitechapel, Isshin stared at the wall with a perplexing look. A bloodied apron, belonging to Eddows, was found at the entrance to a tenement in Goulston Street. On the wall some words were written in chalk. A strange saying that made no real sense, but the contents was worrying.

The superintendent gazed at the wall and read the words. In the instant he ordered it to be washed off.

Urahara raised a loud protest, but the superintendent explained that if this were to get out it could spark anti-Semitic riots. Isshin argued strongly as well, but it all fell on deaf ears.

Ignoring Urahara's pleas, he and Isshin could only stand by and watch their evidence be wiped away.

After the graffito was washed away, and spending endless hours of investigation, they once again turned up with nothing.

By the end of the day the newspapers were filled with news of the double homicide and the crippling criticism of the police. Screaming at their absolute incompetence.

Already there were radicals and even a vigilante group scouring the streets of Whitechapel.

Isshin ran his fingers through his hair, nearly wanting to tear it out.

It must be that man that attacked him that night. Or maybe it was someone pretending to be.

After the stop at the coroner he received the news that not only did the second victim have part of her uterus removed but also one of her kidneys. The result for the first was unnerving as well. Her ear had been nicked, just as the letter said. But from what they gathered, it was believed that just after killing Stride, he was interrupted and fled. But if that was true no one knew.

Urahara had returned to Scotland Yard to argue the case of washing the evidence away, leaving Isshin to mull the case over.

Walking along the busy streets, he reviewed the case in his head.

Four victims. All in their forties. Previously married, and turned prostitution.

The first was killed by a slice to the throat, then part of her abdomen cut open. The second was killed the same way, cut to the throat, but had her body dissected and uterus removed. Then they received a letter by a man calling himself, Jack the Ripper. The third victim was a killed like the rest, only with one cut to the neck. No other injuries, most likely fled before finishing. Then the fourth was found. Neck cut, and innards including major part of the uterus and left kidney missing.

All of these events took place on a weekend.

As his thoughts continued to chase their tails, he passes an empty alley where an unnoticeable door silently creaked open.

In the blink of an eye, a hand slaps over the man's mouth and yanks him into the darkened alley.

Isshin instantly smelled the chemicals and held his breath. Lurching sharply he casts his attacker over his shoulder.

The figure landed nimbly on his feet and looked up, his black spectacles peering at Isshin.

"You." the officer gasped.

"Liked my handy work, officer?" he chuckled in a disguised voice. "Those dirty women looked so nice after I drenched them in their own crimson sauce. Hmmm, saucy. Sounds rather naughty, don't you think, govnor?"

Bristling at his mocking words, Isshin reached for his pistol.

The shadowed man clicked his tongue and dangled the pistol from his finger. "Lookin fo this?"

Isshin snarled and lunged at the man.

Nimbly skipping backwards, he waved the gun playfully and drew deeper into the alley. Enraged the officer chased after.

Encased in darkness, Isshin made his way down the dirty alley.

Broken crates and tossed garbage scattered the ground, tempting various rats and insects to feast. A cat or two yowled above, stalking for their nightly meal. Isshin felt like one of the rats. He could see no sign of the stranger, but he knew he was there.

Creeping along the wall, his muscles tense, Isshin jumped when he heard the man's disembodied voice.

"It's so wonderful to see you again, officer. A true delight indeed." His voice seemed to switch between an educated, well-mannered tone to a crowing slovenly brute one. It was hard to tell who he was.

"Who are you? Are you the one doing the slayings?!" Isshin barked back, scanning for where the man was.

A low chuckle filled the air. "I'm sure ya know by now, after I sent that lovely littl' note, eh? Signed ma name right at the bo'om."

"Jack the Ripper..." Isshin whispered in disbelief. Then he felt a mouth draw close to his ear.

"A pleasure to meet you..." A hot tongue flicked out and caressed the man's ear.

Isshin thrust his elbow back to clip the supposed Jack the Ripper in the chin, but the man quickly fluttered back out of reach. In the shadows he smiled.

Flicking his arms out, a long blade flashed in each hand and sliced through the air at Isshin.

Quickly retreating, the man could almost feel the air cut where the knives nearly grazed him.

"Outstanding as always." Jack applauded by tapping his knives together. "But allow me to show you something that would put Sweeny Todd to shame."

Dancing on his tip toes, he flew at Isshin, blades bared. He rapidly slashed at him, the very wind whistling.

Isshin could only guard, flinching as occasionally the knife tips sliced into his coat or vest.

As the blades danced along the cloaked man's fingers, he softly laughed in delight. "As nimble as ever." he purred, making Isshin dodge a strike to his stomach.

"I've wanted so much for you to notice me." he fawned, parrying an attempted lunge at him. Licking the tip of his knife, he cornered Isshin to the wall, a blade pointed right at his throat. "Ta pay attention ta meh. Ta look mah way..."

"So you killed those women for attention!?" Isshin spat, but held still as the blade pressed to his neck.

Jack the ripper wagged his finger. " No' just any ol' attention, govnor... I wanted yours."

Lowering his other hand, he cleaved the man's shirt right down the middle, exposing his tightly toned torso.

Pinning Isshin's hands above his head, he drives the knife into the wall, piercing the cuffs to his shirt and jacket to the brick wall. Isshin struggled but froze when another blade touched his cheek.

"No, no, officer." Jack chided sweetly. The knife stroked down his jaw and traced the line of his pectoral muscle. "I wouldn't dream of this delightful body being carved up like a Christmas goose. But if you struggle..."

Using the smooth face of the blade, he carefully touches one of Isshin's nipples.

Isshin shuddered from the icy metal touching his skin in the already crisp air. How he wanted to retort, but the thought of losing a body part or two made him obey for now.

Jack took the knife away and used his gloved fingers to pinch Isshin's nipple, rolling it between his fingers.

"There, see?" he smiled under the shroud of his hat. "If we could just get along..." His fingers slid down the man's muscular stomach, "... we could really get to enjoy ourselves..." Isshin jerked with a hiss when his privates were grabbed.

Cupping Isshin's chest, he squeezed the muscle, relishing in its tightness. Lowering his mouth, he tasted the man's pert nipple.

Isshin shivered again at the hot wetness. The velvety softness overlapping his skin, and coiling around each nub. He seethed with actually getting aroused, with the way his hand was rubbing his lower areas.

A rough hand yanked his pants down and closed its fingers around the already swollen shaft.

Letting out a hiss, Isshin pulled at his restraint, wanting desperately to slap those dirty hands away. Why was he reacting to his touch? He should feel disgusted and indifferent. But his body sparked and grew hot to the treatment he was receiving.

"Bet ya wonderin' why ya feelin' so good." Jack smirked, slowly stroking him while playing with his nipple. "You see that cloth indeed had a little something on it to knock you out. But I also doused it in a wonderful drug that is absorbed through the skin. And with you running, it only sped up the process. Get it now?"

Isshin's mind was begging to fog as he began to drown in his bodily needs.

"Guess not..." he chuckled and got to his knees.

Poor Isshin swayed on jelly like legs, but the knife piercing his cuffs prevented him from collapsing.

"AH..." The gloved hands stroked his hot length, the leather sticking to his tight hot skin. The icy air stung his exposed flesh, but he felt on fire. A low moan left his mouth when something hot, smooth and wet lapped his tip. He stopped himself from jutting his hips out to beg for the other to do it again.

Jack the Ripper smirked and took his time licking up one side and down another. His tongue traced each vein and encased the smooth bead between his lips. "Just as I imagined you'd taste." he panted.

It was like candy. After just a taste he wanted more and more to the point of making himself sick.

Isshin was losing control, the drug taking hold. His toes curled into his shoes, wanting to resist raising his hips to feel even more. Jack rewarded him by taking him into his mouth and swallowing him whole.

He made loud smacking noises, slurping every last drop of the officer. He was addicted. "So good. I want you so much..." he cried, relaxing his jaw and gulping his deeper.

Leaving the nearly bursting rod, the cloaked man produces his own member and rubs it against Isshin's, their hot skin sticking. Gripping them together he proceeded to stroke them. Dropping the knife in the other hand, he slips his fingers past the man's balls and lightly presses the perineum.

Gasping at the new sensation, Isshin raised his hips in time with the friction. He held on to his rhyme and reason as the cruel drug took hold of his every nerve, setting him ablaze.

He shamefully allowed himself to be subjected to the man's toying. Each caress drawing him closer and closer to climax.

Jack's breath was coming short, as he wallowed in his bliss.

Grabbing Isshin's hips, he turns him sideways and uses the belt to bind his thighs together. His cock already slick, he pushes it between the man's clenched thighs. Letting out a groan, he pistons feverishly into them.

Isshin's tongue hung out as he openly gasped for breath. Pulling at his restraints, he keened loudly into the alley. The drug pumping through his boiling veins singed all over his body.

If the thrusting friction between his legs wasn't driving his crazy, the equally sped up strokes to his cock was more than enough to wrench away his sanity.

Gripping the officer's cock tightly, Jack felt himself spill between his thighs as he milked Isshin till his gushed from the tip.

Isshin's head swam and his vision blurred. All he could make out were a pair of black spectacles staring back at him. He could see those lips moving, but his speech sounded like it was underwater. But from what he could pick up made his soul shudder.

"I love 'ow ya chase afta meh, govnor." the swirling face smiled, "Chase me some more. Burn with vehemence of me some more. Obsess over me some more. Just like I do you... Isshin..."

The final thing Isshin saw, before being swallowed up by the darkness was the black silhouette against the black night sky. "I shall send you word of my affections, officer. You'll know it's from me. With love... from Hell..."

* * *

When Isshin awoke he was slumped over on his side from where he lost consciousness. He noticed the dagger that had pinned his cuffs was gone and his clothes had been righted. But the man calling himself Jack the Ripper was gone.

Isshin lay there on the filthy ground with rats crawling around him. Curling into himself he desperately wished that he had been next to have his throat cut.

His thighs, his chest, his ears, everywhere that man had touched him felt vile and filthy. But vilest and filthiest of all had been himself.

True he had been put out of his mind by drugs, but that didn't make up for falling into its affects. The fact that he yearned for it, begged for it, like an unadulterated whore. It made him so deeply ashamed.

Despair washed over him, sinking his heart so low that not even an archangel from God could salvage it.

He wondered if the rats scurrying around him would kindly nibble away at his flesh till there was only clean picked bones remaining.

He would have gladly welcomed that end, but a flicker sparked in his chest and roared.

So the man had been killing these women to attract his attention? But why? And why his?

Was it someone who held a hatred for him? Someone from his past? Someone on the force.

His face grew dark at the thought of another officer being responsible for all this.

But just as the rage flared up, it fizzled out and left him empty again.

He didn't want to go home, there was no one waiting for him. Urahara was back at Scotland Yard.

Someone. He wanted someone to be with, someone to be near to. Someone or he'd be swallowed up by his agony.

"Ryuuken..."

Why that name came to mind he couldn't tell, but he felt calm whenever they met. And especially now, this the sudden appearance of this psychopath, he had more than once found solace in the physician's company.

And even now he had the lingering urge to seek his comfort.

It was nearly dawn when the door to Ryuuken's home was rapped upon.

Bundled in a robe and slippers, he descends the stairs and opens the door, wondering who would be disturbing him at this hour.

He prayed it wasn't another late night pregnancy. But who he found standing in his doorway startled him.

"Isshin! What happened?"

It was like déjà vu, with the tall broad man was hunched over, clasping the obviously torn clothing together again. But this time he looked to be on the verge to tears. He'd seen him cry before. Playful tears, lonesome tears, tears of soul wrenching agony of the loss of his wife. But these tears were ones of shame and horror.

Not asking anything, he opened the door and invited him in. Calling the servants up, he had them draw a hot bath for his guest.

Isshin gratefully accepted a hot bath and soaked in it till the hot water turned lukewarm.

Dressing in a spare sleep attire, he was led to the same guest room and sank into the soft cool linen. It felt as if non of it really happened, feeling safe and secure in the home of his dear friends home.

Ryuuken pulled up a chair and sat with him.

"Ryuuken?" the man spoke softly, but Ryuuken shook his his to silence him.

"Sleep." he said, "I'll be right here..."

Isshin had no idea how comforting those words made him feel. How safe... and wanted... For a man his age, with no wife, and children nearly grown, he felt, for once in a long time, content.

And then the sleep took hold. After the whole ordeal of the night he didn't realize how tired he was. Slowly closing his eyes, he gently smiled at Ryuuken. "Thank you..." he sighed, and drifted off to sleep.

Ryuuken watched him fall asleep before his eyes. Placing a hand beneath the blanket, he touched the slumbering man's fingers and gently held them in his. He smiled lightly and closed his eyes. "Don't worry... I'm right here..."

Mocking. That's what the killer was, mocking.

On the first of October, a letter was received with the same handwriting.

_I was not codding dear old Boss when I gave you the tip, you'll hear about Saucy Jacky's work tomorrow double event this time number one squealed a bit couldn't finish straight off. Had not got time to get ears off for police thanks for keeping last letter back till I got to work again._

_Jack the Ripper_

Isshin wanted to tear the letter in his hands. Urahara stood by grim faced and looking out the window. "What do you think?" he asked, not turning around.

Placing the letter down, Isshin scrubbed a hand over his face. There were deep circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. "It's hard to depict when it was mailed. It might have been posted before the killings, but with the details, and the deaths no more than twenty four hours, it's hard to tell if this is a crank, or a legitimate letter."

Urahara closed his eyes. "I don't know what to do."

And there was nothing they could do. With the officers **and** vigilante group scouring the streets for the man, Jack the Ripper, they still could not find a single trace or clue to who this assailant was.

Isshin went over to Urahara to look out the same window. How calm and undisturbed the people looked below. Unknowing that someone among them was slicing up prostitutes.

He let out a tired sigh. "We just have to look harder.

It didn't matter how hard they looked, for a gift would soon be delivered to them

In the darkened alley way a man was nervously checking his watching. A thick fog had rolled in and misted over the cobblestone streets. The nights had been growing cold and most would avoid being out on a bitter night like this. But there was a reason he put up with it. A very valuable reason.

Checking his watch again, he nearly let out a sharp cry when, just a couple yards away, a figure seemed to manifest from the darkness. A silhouette of a person dressed all in black and peering through shaded spectacles.

"I've another letter for you to write, my good sir." he spoke in a wispy like voice. Raising his boot he kicks over a small chest.

The man eagerly dove for it and wrenched the lid open. He gazed greedily at the coins that filled chest, with the addiction of top grade drugs. Also inside was the letter that was to be copied then burned.

It was months ago that this man came up to him. He claimed he just wanted to tease the police a little so that they would work harder to find the real killer. But if that were true or not mattered very little when he paid him handsomely for the previous letters.

Now any other person might have agreed to simply take the money and double cross him, but there was something dangerous about him, and he had no desire to find out why.

"Right, sir. Will get right on it." he promised.

"And you remember our agreement, correct?"

"If asked, I admit to writin' the lette's for our paper's publicity."

"Very good."

Picking up the chest, the young man was about to leave when the cloaked figure called out to him. "Oh, one last thing, before you go." From under his coat he holds up an object. "Would you kindly deliver this as well?"

The other looked at it. "What is it?" he asked before stopping himself.

"A gift...for my beloved." he smiled from the dark.

October 16th.

It was to be a quaint day, with little events to go on, regardless of the circumstances, when the leader of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee received a certain letter along with a little parcel. When he looked inside, horror griped his soul.

They quickly brought it over to the police, where Isshin and Urahara each took turns reading the letter.

_From hell_

_Mr Lusk_

_Sor_

_I send you half the_

_Kidne I took from one women_

_prasarved it for you tother piece_

_I fried and ate it was very nise. I_

_may send you the bloody knif that_

_took it out if you only wate a whil longer._

_Signed ,Catch me when you Can_

_Mishter Lusk._

A sense of dread washed over them. Opening the box, horror filled their eyes. "Oh God..." Urahara gasped.

Inside the small box was half a kidney, preserved in a jar of ethanol.

Isshin held up the jar in revulsion. He shook his head, unable to believe how sick and twisted this person was. "Get this to the coroner now!" he ordered. He hoped it was just an animal kidney.

Rushing it over to the coroner, though he was not in, his assistant gave a full examination, and it was indeed human. But whether it belonged to Catherine Eddowes was impossible to tell.

But now the terrible questions remained. Did the man called Jack the Ripper really eat it? Was it really Catherine Eddowes' kidney? And will he strike again?

* * *

Fear and panic gripped the streets of Whitechapel, knowing a mad man was running about.

Whispers spread that it was a demon. Others claimed it was Spring-Heeled Jack.

But in the midst of fear and crippling horror, a brewing of resentful anger fueled the people. All hands pointed accusingly at the police and their unscrupulous inept ability to apprehend this mad man that had already claimed three victims.

Newspapers were filled with criticizing cartoons mocking the police force with titles like 'Blind-man's Buff' where the officer is blindfolded while criminals and hooligans dance about him.

News stories sneered and jabbed at their incompetence and many people even cat called on them.

But just as the storm blew in it slowly faded out.

Since the double event and kidney incident, no sign, or letter, of the one calling himself Jack the Ripper, has arisen. True there were other crimes, but none relating to the original slayings.

Weeks passed and no word of the killer had come about.

An eerie calm fell over Whitechapel. It was like the city was holding it's breath.

Then, on October 29th, they were called down to the coroner.

Urahara and Isshin both stood outside the familiar filth covered door where the deranged doctor examined his bodies. But there was something wrong. Loud shouts and the sound of crashes could be heard from within.

Entering the ward, both men ducked just in time as a jar of preserved innards shattered on the wall over their heads.

"This ignominy!" the eccentric man screamed, kicking over a tray scalpels, "The gall of this lowly monkey brained vermin!"

"What seems to be the problem?" Urahara asked calmly, stepping over a puddle of God knows what.

The doctor shot the blonde man a scathing look. "You." Marching over he waves a paper into his face. "Is this your doing?! Your idea of a joke?!"

Urahara backed away. "Woah, wait, wait! What ever it is, it's not my doing."

"It may as well be." the doctor spat. Thrusting the note into the blonde man's face, he hurls a skull across the room in a rage.

Scanning the note, he hands it to Isshin to read as well.

_Old boss you was rite it was the left kidny i was goin to hoperate agin close to your ospitle just as i was going to dror mi nife along of er bloomin throte them cusses of coppers spoilt the game but i guess i wil be on the job soon and will send you another bit of innerds_

_Jack the Ripper_

_O have you seen the devle with his mikerscope and scalpul a-lookin at a kidney with a slide cocked up._

"Is this letter legitimate?" he asked.

"Does it matter? I want the writer found and brought to me alive so I can dissect him, place his organs in jars and set them up in my study so that everyday I can gaze at the idiot who dared make a fool of me!" Marching over to a table, he kicks it over, sending all his chemicals and instruments smashing to the floor. "You're incompetence to catch this monkey is proof enough that you and your supposed investigation force are as brilliant as a bag of wriggling maggots!"

Urahara narrowed his eyes, his nostrils flaring. "Well maybe if you were a better coroner we would have far better leads."

"What did you say!?" It was like the doctor was frothing at the mouth.

The sounds of their raised voices fell on deaf ears to Isshin. Staggering back, he felt himself violently shake.

After finding no useful information from the letter, Isshin and Urahara parted ways, Urahara having to rush up to Scotland Yard.

Isshin wearily wandered the streets, jumping at every shadow that passed. His nerves were frazzled to the nub, his hands shaking violently.

Day and night, they'd been searching for clues that may enlighten them as who the killer might be, but no matter the effort they came up empty handed.

The officers on the force were suffering the most. The weight of the public eye was upon them and it was suffocating.

Isshin was suffering as well. The stress was really getting to him. He was one of the leaders in the group and was suppose to be in charge and guide his subordinates. But he was only leading them around in circles. He was also having reoccurring nightmares.

After the encounter with the man calling himself Jack the Ripper, he couldn't even close his eyes without feeling those hands touching all over him like slimy serpents, and would wake up in a cold sweat. And worst of all, he had no one to lean on.

Urahara was busy with his investigations, and his children were away, so he was alone.

The stress and loneliness was wearing him out and sending him spiraling into a deep depression.

* * *

Days later, sitting alone at the usual pub, Isshin was nearly blind with alcohol. His mind reeling, his nerves fried, and unable to sleep at night, he'd been going to various pubs after his shift, since he couldn't bare to be alone where the memories tortured him. Blood, bodies, mocking letters, and a man named Jack the Ripper who had an unusual obsession with him.

He also found that his home had been repeatedly broken into. Nothing was taken, in fact, roses were left instead. Their petals scattered the floor and shelves, resembling the color of blood. Words of love were deeply carved into the walls all over his home.

He hadn't told anyone, not wanting to add to the chaos that was already nearly tearing their force apart.

So he kept it to himself and drank himself to sleep at the bar. After all, what was the point of going home. No one was there waiting for him. Just frightening gifts and messages from an insane man.

Downing another bottle, Isshin was just about to order another, when a gentle hand fell upon his shoulder. Looking up he saw the blurred face of Ryuuken who was looking at him in concern.

"Let's go." he ordered.

Go? Go where? He didn't even have a home to go back to. But Isshin was far too drunk to care and followed.

A small carriage ride, they arrived at Ryuuken's home where Isshin was led up the stairs to the man's own bedroom.

Seated in the little room, Isshin slumped at a table next to a heating unit. The nights were so cold now. It wouldn't be surprising if Whitechapel had an early snow that year.

Ryuuken set his things down and put his coat away before looking at his drunk friend. "Isshin, why are you doing this? Why are you subjecting yourself to this."

Isshin ignored him.

"Isshin!"

"Just leave me alone." he growled. Everyone left him. So would Ryuuken.

The snow haired man narrowed his eyes. Marching over, he roughly pulls the man shoulder to face him and strikes him across the face with the back of his hand.

The harsh sting sobered Isshin who stared in shock at the usual stoic man that never showed any emotion.

"What do you think you are doing?" Ryuuken spat, "You've been through harder times than this. What would your children say if they saw their father drinking his sorrows away?"

At the mention of his children, Isshin flared up. "What do you know! You're not an officer! You don't know how hard it is for us on the force with the public eye criticizing our every move! A mad man running around slaying woman and then up and disappearing. What would you know!"

"The Isshin I know wouldn't let any of that bother him." Ryuuken shot back, "What happened to him? Why are you acting like this?!"

"I don't know." the other snapped.

"That's not an answer!"

"It's the best I have!"

"That's not good enough. Tell me the truth!"

"That is th-"

"Isshin!"

Frustrated and upset, Isshin blindly slams his fist on the table. "I'm alone!" he screamed. The room grew quiet. Clenching his shaking fists, he tried to catch breath that he didn't realize was nearly on the verge of hyperventilating.

Ryuuken stood by quietly and waited for his friend to go on.

Burying his face in his hands, Isshin's strong whiskered jaw trembled. "I'm so lonesome..." he whispered, "Ever since Misaki died, all I had were my children. But now they're gone too. I know it's weak of me to let it affect my work, but... This case... It's so hard. So vicious. It has me so consumed and confused. All I think about is solving this crime and bringing that bastard to justice. But now I'm getting frightened..." Taking a breath, he slowly sank to the table, resting his face in his arms. "I'm getting to obsessed, Ryuuken... And it makes me realize how alone I am... I don't want to be consumed by this."

Gentle fingers brush Isshin's shoulder. Ryuuken had said nothing throughout his confession, and he was glad for that. Raising his head to look at the man, he was startled when Ryuuken cupped his swollen cheek and drew his face in.

"You're not alone, Isshin. I'm right here." he whispered, and brushed his lips to Isshin's.

Isshin inhaled and held his breath.

_What?_

Did his old and dear friend just kiss him?

Looking into those brown eyes, he felt himself melt into that smoldering gaze he had never seen before.

Ryuuken kissed his lips again, but this time added pressure and lightly licked those lips. Isshin gasped softly, so Ryuuken invited himself to draw deeper into that mouth.

A soft tongue swept in and smoothed over the broad man's, coaxing it to move with his. Isshin mewed sensually. The moist sounds their mouths were making made him shiver all over. It was a sweet and hot sensation, one he hadn't felt in a long while.

Closing his eyes, when Ryuuken cradled the back of his head, he melted further into the kiss.

Their lips drew apart and Isshin was left breathless.

Ryuuken held his chin in his hand and tilted it back for the man to look at him. "Know that I am here, Isshin." he said soothingly. His thumb stroked the that bottom lip that was slightly swollen from the kiss. "I'm right here. I'll always be here for you."

A spell was cast with those words and Isshin was falling into it. How long had it been since he heard words of comfort. Then the weight of fatigue washed over him. His now heavy eyes drooped, wanting to close them for a very long time.

Isshin leaned over and nestled his head against the slender man's waist. How tired he felt. And how good it felt to feel another person's presence.

Ryuuken was surprised by the sudden child-like action. So vulnerable and fragile. His arms gently wrap around Isshin, his fingers tenderly stroking his hair.

And there he stood, in the little room, warmed by a small fire, tenderly cradling the man to his chest. Tilting his head back, he gently stroked the injured cheek. He could see the shimmering un-shed tears that gleamed in those soft brown eyes.

Again their lips touched. Nibbling on his bottom lip, Ryuuken easily coaxed the mouth open and claimed it once again.

Isshin quickly succumbed, and felt a need that had been left dormant for so long.

First his jacket was drawn away, those fingers skimming over his white shirt. They tugged it out of his belt and one by one, each button was pulled through the tiny slits.

Leaving it on, Ryuuken pulled the man by the wrist and sets him on the bed. Hooking a finger through the knot of the tie, the loop slowly pulled away, releasing the collar of the white shirt. The tie fluttered to the floor and Isshin was gently pushed down on the bed. Ryuuken knelt on the bed, and hovered over the man. His fingertips brush along the center line of his tightly toned chest, the soft hair tickling like feathers.

Slipping them along the edge of the shirt, he smoothly slips it off his body to expose that beautifully muscled body. He traces his fingers along the man's frame beneath him and rubbed his thumbs over his nipples.

"Mmm." Isshin hummed, flushing at the touch. It was an unusual sensation and it was making him very hot.

Ryuuken rolled the tender nubs between his fingers. Lowers his face he lightly laps at them.

"Ah..." Isshin gasped. It tickled to have that tongue tasting his nipples, but also tantalized his senses. The arousing jolts that wracked across his body sent the tingling sensation between his legs. His chest heaved rapidly, mewing pleasurably.

Drawing the sweet nipples into his mouth, the snow haired man danced his fingers down Isshin's abdomen and cup his through the layers of clothing. How he longed to hear the man's gasping breath. Sending him through the thoroughs of rapture.

Hooking a finger in the hem of his pants, he tugs the garments off, allowing Isshin's erection to spring forth. It was dark in color, moisture oozing from the tip. The musky scent made Ryuuken's mouth water.

"Isshin." he breathed. Moistening his lips he licks the long length that tasted salty upon his taste buds, making Isshin's hips jerked. Nibbling on the tip, the hot organ slips past his lips and into his hot mouth.

Isshin cried out, his hands immediately grabbing his head. Little moans leaked out of his throat, as Ryuuken steadily feasted on his manhood. His knees bent, his soft thighs brushing the other man's head. The tendrils of white tickled the skin of his inner thighs, as the hot mouth around his cock tortured him in agonizing bliss. Then his body shook.

"Ah-AH...!" With a shudder, he climaxed. Ryuuken had pulled off at the last moment and allowed the white fluid to spill on his face and chest. Flicking his tongue out, he caught a small drop or the white lust on his face and savored the delicious bitterness.

Isshin lay gasping on the bed. His face and neck were a deep red shade that blended throughout the rest of his body with a light rose.

"I love you, Isshin." Ryuuken confessed, staring adoringly at him.

Looking up at the man who had just pleasured him, Isshin felt warmth flow through him. It had been a long time since anyone had told him that. Holding up his hands, he welcomed him into his. His soul. His being. _Please let this loneliness disappear._

Moments later, having the rest of his clothes, besides the white shirt, removed, his fingers dig into the bedsheets.

Ryuuken's finger squished inside his anus. Slicked with oil, they moved wetly in and out of the opening. Isshin buried his face into the welcoming cool of the fabrics to his scalding skin. The fingers delved deeper and touched a place that made him bow his back and scream. "Ry-Ryuuken..." he whimpered, pushing his hips back to feel it again.

Chuckling at the man's eagerness, he complies and thrusts his fingers against that small bump that made him see stars. "I've wanted you, Isshin." he whispered into his ear. "I've always wanted you. I've always loved you."

Oh why did his words charm Isshin so? They were so sweet and gentle and endearing. Like he really was casting a spell over him.

The fingers withdrew, leaving Isshin feeling empty. Then something blunt touched his anus. "Be mine, Isshin." Ryuuken purred to him, sinking his hot member all the way to the hilt. "Belong only to me. No one else."

Isshin keened as the appendage was gulped inside. It sank so deeply and felt so hot it was like his insides were liquifying like hot sugar and the searing spear. Then just as it came in, it pulled out. The process was repeated till the friction was making Isshin shout in pleasure.

Their hips kissed loudly, the rough rocking making the bed beneath them moan. Isshin curved his back, panting harshly. He felt so good. So very full and wanted.

His shoulder was grasped and turned his upper body to face Ryuuken. He gazed at him with those sharp intelligent eyes, never looking away, fearing this was all an illusion that he would wake up from. But Isshin was here. Right beneath him and accepting him and all his love.

Isshin turned the rest of his body, Ryuuken grunting at the motion, and wrapped his strong arms around the man's neck. "Ryuuken." he gasped, kissing his ear before nibbling the lobe part. "Never let me go..." he begged, not realizing what he said.

Ryuuken's heart swelled and kissed his cheek. "I promise..." he answered. "Never..."

Pleasure coiled tightly in Isshin's gut. His body was hot, his skin soaked with sweat, his breathing short. But he wanted more. To fall into the void that promised to swallowing him up and drown him in the sweet honey of satisfaction.

And sweet it was. Feeling his soul break, and his mind blank, Isshin cried ecstatically for the snow haired man; and in turn, Ryuuken cried for him as well. The blissful intoxication of their aftermath drowsed Isshin into a soft slumber. A peaceful slumber that calmed him and allowed him serenity.

Ryuuken rested his head on the broad man's brow, breathing in his tangy scent of sweat and Isshin. Glancing at the tall grandfather clock, he saw that it had just turned midnight and the date had changed.

November 9th. A Friday.

"It'll be a nice Friday." he mumbled happily, kissing Isshin's brow.

* * *

The old grandfather clock chimed, rousing Isshin from his sleep. It was four in the morning, and the sun was far from rising.

But he was rather thirsty so he rolled over on the bed to get up. It was then he saw the bed was empty.

"Ryuuken?"

Pulling on his trousers, he wondered if he had not woken up to use the bathroom.

Getting up, he found the water basin was empty so he left the room to fill it.

It was very quiet in the house. Not even the servants could be heard. Actually, he had not seen any signs of a servant since that night of his attack. But that was not unusual. Perhaps they had went on holiday.

Crossing to the stairs, Isshin saw that a door to the private study was left ajar and a soft light glowed from within. He'd never been in there before, since it was always locked. Ryuuken kept his clients personal files in there and did not wish for them to fall into the wrong hands. Maybe Ryuuken had went in there for something.

"Ryuuken?" he called out, knocking on the door. But no answer came. Did he not hear him? Pushing the door open he entered the room.

Inside was a simple room with neatly kept shelves full of records of patients, finances, reports, and various other inquiries. A writing desk and chair stood in the corner. A lamp sat upon this, casting a low light in the room.

'Must have gotten a call for an emergency and left.' the man thought, and went over to extinguish the lamp. His eyes then fell upon a file left on the desk with the name 'Mary Jane Kelly'.

Opting to leave the room, he stalled when his hand touched the handle. Why was he stalling? Why was he looking over at the desk?

_No... just go back to bed. It's nothing..._

But his legs carried him back to the desk.

The top drawer had a lock on it, but the key was left in it.

_It's nothing... stop..._

Turning the key the lock clicked and he slowly opened the drawer. Inside were more files. Each one in order from oldest on top and newest on the bottom. There were also notes written all over them in red pencil. No, note just notes, scribbles and deep stab-tears.

The title of the top file of the stack read, 'Mary Ann Nichols'. Scribbled across her name was a deep red X.

The notes scribbled on read as follow.

_'Why did I call her over. Filthy. But this feeling won't stop. If I do it will it go away? I want to hurt her. Did anyone see? But I saw him. He came up. I said something, but he didn't hear. But he took notice. He noticed! Another? Would he pay attention if I did another?'_

Next file. Annie Chapman.

_'Ugly woman, but easy to draw away. Was bolder this time. Took away that vile thing. Burned it in the fire. I hate it. It made **them**. **They** keep his attention. He thinks of **them** all the time. I hate **them**. But he took notice again. Is upset because of me. Reacted because of me. Got excited. He looked so handsome. Wanted a taste. So good. Let me taste more. He came to me after. So happy! Keep pushing. If I keep pushing he'll come to me. I'll send a letter to stir him up. I love you.'_

File, Annie Chapman.

_'Stupid woman. Annoying. Shut her up good. But someone came. But I want him to react! Love me. Notice me.'_

Catherine Eddowes

_'Fat wench. Took a long time to find it. Hate it. I hate it! Took the kidney too. Disgustingly bloated from drinking. No struggle. Better than the other. Isshin will be pleased by my handy work. Saw him. Followed. I love you so much. I tasted you. You were like heaven. Then you came to me again. Only me. No one else. More. I'll push you more to me. Hope you like the gift.'_

Isshin shook on the spot. He was having a hard time breathing. He wanted to throw up. To scream that it was not true. No please. Don't let it be true!

In the bottom of the drawer, from under the files, a pair of darkly tinted spectacles looked up at him sightlessly.

The pitcher he'd been holding in his hand fell to the floor and shattered.

"Oh God! Please don't let it be true!" he begged. But what the first file said made him remember something Ryuuken said. 'Maybe she didn't please her customer and thus got the brunt end of his fury.'

How did he know what her profession was? They didn't even know till a few hours later.

"No..." Tears filled Isshin's eyes.

Staggering back, his shoulder it the shelf and a book fell out. But instead of patient information and names and dates, were the written words of 'I love you, my Isshin.'

Picking up the book, he flips through the pages. Every last corner was filled the same line. Sometimes there was a 'I adore you.' or 'My lovely Isshin.' or 'No one else can have you.' but page after page was scrawled with these notes.

Dropping the book, Isshin pulled another out and found the same. Pulling another, he found the same. Soon a many of the books scattered the floor, but each one was filled to the brim with 'I love you, my Isshin.'

No. No! It couldn't be true! But if it was, he had to stop him.

Ripping the open the Mary Jane Kelly, he quickly read the unfinished notes.

_'Did you like my flowers? My words of love? No one loves you like me. Fall into my trap. Need only me. I saw you drink away your pain. No, no. Only rely on me. Only me. You were mine tonight. You fell into my arms. Took my words of love and accepted me. You let me sweetly embrace you. I'm so happy. But I must keep you mine. If you go, I'll break. I'll break her. She who is like__** Her**__ and took you away. Break her, unlike I did __**her**__. I'll make you stay forever. Because I love you... my Isshin...' _

Isshin paled at the notes written down. Casting it aside, he searched the desk for any clues as to where he might go. On the desk he found a note paper with the top paper torn off. Tearing the next layer he holds it up to the lantern to read the indent left behind.

13 Miller's Court, Dorset Street, Spitalfields.

Grabbing his coat and boots, and securing his pistol, he dashes into the biting cold of the night.

* * *

An icy frost had fallen upon the city of Whitechapel, and with the sun still yet to rise, the air felt frozen. Isshin ran through the empty streets, ignoring icy pain clawing into his skin. His breath froze at his breath, ghosting white mist into the air.

The streetlamps still flickered with a sickly light, illuminating the streets that shimmered with frost. Hurry. He had to hurry. He had to save her. If anything, he must save this woman!

Arriving at 13 Miller's Court, Isshin raced up to the door and banged his hand on it. "Miss Kelly! I'm officer Isshin! You're in danger! Miss Kelly!"

Grabbing the handle he found it gave way and immediately opened the door.

Isshin inhaled in dread.

The air in the single room flat was filled with the coppery scent of blood. There was a small bed in the corner of the room and there lay Mary Jane Kelly's horribly mutilated form.

Her face was practically gouged and hacked to pieces. The head was nearly sliced right off at the neck with only the spinal cord connecting it. Her abdomen was ripped completely opened and looked as if all her organs had been emptied out round her. The bed was stained a deep crimson, soaked from her blood that dripped through the bottom.

A horrific sight, a poor woman cut short in her life and gruesomely eviscerated with her face ripped apart.

"Dear God..." He was too late. Too late to save this poor woman from the man he had made love to hours before.

Creeping closer to the bed, Isshin held back the tears that threatened to rush forth. "I'm sorry..." he choked, knowing she couldn't hear him, "I'm so very sorry..." It was his fault. All his fault. All those dead women were on his head.

Feeling nausea washing over him, he suddenly saw a folded paper left in the dead woman's hand. His name was written on it in blood.

Taking the note, he read the simple message neatly written on it.

_'The bridge.'_

Isshin knew which bridge it meant.

When Misaki had just died, Isshin went off the deep end and drank heavily. Despair gripping him, he had wandered to the bridge just outside of Whitechapel, planning to join his wife in death. But Ryuuken had rushed to his aid and held him back from killing himself. There he broke down and openly wept on his friend's shoulder.

And now he must go there again to face his old friend.

* * *

The early light of dawn flecked across the clouded sky, but held little comfort from the bitter cold that clung in the air. A light snow had begun to fall and dusted the roofs and streets in soft white. A gentle fog had rolled in, shrouding the streets in a sleepy cloud that had fallen from the sky.

Through the quiet city that had yet to awaken, the streetlamps were, one by one, snuffed out to rest till dusk called for their aid to illuminate from the fears of darkness.

Isshin raced through these empty streets that engulfed his form in the ghostly fog. It was like he was racing against the dawn that would drive away the night and the evils that lurked within it.

An evil he knew and had cared for throughout his life. And now he must slay this evil that he once called friend and embraced, before he vanished back into the darkness and away from the law's grasp.

He did not need to see the way to know where the bridge was. He'd never forget the way and the moment they had experienced there.

The bridge was old, having been there Whitechapel was colonized. Expanding over the large river, held tightly together by thickly aged stones and metal, the murky waters below flowed with a strong current, the edges crusting with ice from the early frost.

Isshin stood in the middle, the thick fog sweeping past him quietly like apparitions momentarily walking among the world of the living one last time before returning to their final rest.

Through the dense fog, he cautiously moved forward, the soles of his shoes echoing off the bumpy cobblestones. In the distance he saw a figure, their dark silhouette standing out against the light gray of the mist surrounding them.

The man's breath was slow yet heavy, a misty vapor spilling past his lips. Reaching into his pocket he held tightly to his pistol. The silhouette remained standing, never once moving an inch, like it was waiting. A bit of the mist began to thin and the blurred form became clearer. And there stood the tall form of Ryuuken with his back to Isshin.

"Ryuuken!" he shouted to his old friend. Whipping out his revolver, he aimed it right at him, his finger on the trigger.

Ryuuken raised his head. Turning to face his love, he smiled warmly, cantering his head to the side. "Hello, Isshin." Blood was soaked all over his white shirt sleeves and vest and was splattered along the side of his smiling face. "I'm so glad you're here." He raised his arms in joy to welcoming him in an embrace.

Isshin jolted in horror.

In his left hand was the blood soaked knife that he must have used on Mary Jane Kelly. And in the other was her heart.

Ryuuken studied the quiet man pointing a gun at him, wondering why he he didn't come to him before realizing the reason. "Ah, I must look a sight. Do forgive my soiled appearance, but I had just finished a house call. And look, I got you a present. And it's still fresh..." Ryuuken ran his tongue across the bloodied organ. He sank his teeth into it and tore off a nice piece, chewing it slowly, the red juice oozing from his mouth.

Isshin began to shake. "So... it was you. It was you all along..." He had hoped it wasn't. Even up to the last moment he hoped it wasn't true. That it was someone else pretending to be Ryuuken. But now here he was, right before his eyes. "Why... WHY RYUUKEN!?"

The snow haired man licked his bloodied lips and smiled. "Because you finally noticed me." he said calmly. His face suddenly hardened. "Do you know how long I've loved you?" Those usual sharp and intelligent eyes looked unfocused and glazed. "It was always us. Together. I did not mind your other friends because I knew we were closer than any friends... But then S_he _came along."

He clenched the heart in his hand tightly till the blood dripped through his fingers and wept upon the pure snow like tears of a sinner.

"_She _stole you from me." He went on, his voice harsh but not above a whisper, "Took you away. Gave you_** things**_ that I could not... I hated H_er _for that. Hated _Her_ for taking your love. Then giving you those _**Things**_ to take up even more of your love. Leaving nothing for me."

Isshin realized he was talking about his deceased wife, Misaki, and his children.

Did his marriage and building of family trigger something deep in insane man's mind? Something that festered and rotted till it decomposed away his very senses?

Ryuuken clenched his jaw, rage tying around his throat and choking the very words he spoke. "They were like _Her_. They could give things I could not... I hated... Every... last... one... of THEM!" With a roar, he throws Mary Jane Kelly's heart over the edge and into the icy waters below. "So I took them..." he laughed proudly, "and dined upon them. In hopes that I too could gain what they had. But I didn't. I gained something even better..."

'Oh Ryuuken...' Isshin now knew he had taken those woman's uterus because they could give birth which Ryuuken could not. Ryuuken must have thought if he could give birth, like woman could, he would be able to gain his affection.

"And what... would that be?" the officer asked, the realization stabbing into his heart like the knife Ryuuken's hand.

Ryuuken shifted back to his familiar self. He smiled gently and adoringly at Isshin. "You..." he answered.

"What?" he asked in bewilderment.

"Each time I killed those women, you sought me out for comfort. Each time I came after you as 'Jack the Ripper' you would come running to my arms. So I wondered. If I continue to slay more filthy prostitutes, would that continue to bind you to me even more?"

Isshin raised his gun. "Stop, Ryuuken! You're crimes end here. I'm bringing you in!"

Shaking his head, mush like a father does when a child says something silly, Ryuuken spread his arms wide open. "Then you must kill me." he said simply.

The world around them, the streets, the greatly worn and crumbling buildings, the aging bridge, all of Whitechapel, was swallowed up by the white fog. Gentle snowflakes from above continued to descend to a peaceful landing on the two men or fall away into the shroud of mist.

Isshin flinched at his words, but held the gun firmly. "Just come along quietly. We can work this ou-"

"I left that room open for you." Ryuuken interrupted.

Isshin blinked. "What?"

"To my study. I left the door open. Left the key in the drawer where the files were hidden."

"But why?!"

"Because I wanted you to find me."

Isshin was startled by those words. "I don't understand."

Ryuuken smiled sweetly, his arms still raised. "So you would know the truth." he said, "That is was all for you."

With his arms still wide open, he slowly advanced toward Isshin. "It was all for you. Killing all those women. Sending those letters. Throwing all of Whitechapel into a frothing hysteria... all-for-you."

The gun in the officer's hand trembled.

Ryuuken continued to walked toward his love. His eyes warm and serene. A gentle smile so full of love it would break his heart. "And now we've come to the final act." he laughed softly, as if he hadn't a care I the world. "Between the hangman's noose and now... I would rather my beloved take my life with your own hands so that my final moments are with you, and the memory of my death be burned into your mind for the rest of your life."

Now they stood face to face, Ryuuken's arms still spread wide, the nozzle of Isshin's gun pressing to his chest.

They stared into each other's eyes, years of friendships passing between them. Then the horrors of the last few months incinerated those sweet memories like the flames of final judgment.

Five dead woman, all brutally mutilated. His poor fellow officers, the mocking joke of all of England. His nightmares, caused from a mad man he hunted that hunted him in turn. All of it, Ryuuken's fault. His friend, his one night lover.

Squeezing the trigger, Isshin looked into Ryuuken's eyes who looked back with only love. A hush fell over the bridge, and then...

Releasing the tension from his finger, Isshin lowered the gun. Tears ran down his cheeks and froze to his skin. He... couldn't do it.

Ryuuken smiled. Lowering his arms, he closed the distance between them and drew him into his arms. "Shhhh." he whispered tenderly, brushing his lips to the crying man's temple. "It's alright, Isshin. I'm right here...I'll always be here..."

Gripping the knife it plunged into Isshin. Isshin gasped, letting out a gurgle before slumping lifelessly into the snow haired man's arms.

Nuzzling Isshin's soft spiked hair, Ryuuken gazes up toward the heavens above, the light snowflakes kissing his skin before melting to bitter tears of remorse. In the distance, church bells tolled, welcoming the new day.

"And I'll never let you go..." he sighed happily, cradling Isshin's motionless head to his shoulder.

* * *

At 10:45 am, Mary Jane Kelly's horribly mutilated body was found. But after this horrific act, Jack the Ripper vanished.

Not another note was sent, nor body part mailed, nor killing resembling his motive ever came about again. Like the unknown man and his acts never really happened.

Isshin Kurosaki, a half-blood immigrant police officer, vanished that night as well. They only found his shoes and badge on the railing of the bridge. After finding nothing unusual in his home, being nicely remodeled and clean, they concluded it as a suicide, due to the overwhelming stress of the case.

Though his grieving children, and friend, Urahara, vehemently argued otherwise, the case was settled as so.

Ryuuken had quietly decided to move his practice from England all together, and left Whitechapel, never to return.

There was rumor that he would be placed in charge of care in a asylum in France, taking with him a new patient strictly under his care.

But if that were true or not, no one knew. For they were more concerned about the mysterious and curious case revolving around the un-caught killer named Jack the Ripper.


End file.
